


Sometimes You Gotta Roll the Hard Six

by callmeonetrack



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9273161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeonetrack/pseuds/callmeonetrack
Summary: Hotshot roller derby queen Kara Thrace has to face a few tough realities.





	

**Author's Note:**

> All of my research for this fic came from scanning a wikipedia entry and some cursory google searching. I may well have bungled up some of the rules of Flat Track Roller Derby. Please allow for some, uh, creative license. ;) Also, there’s a glossary at the end if needed!

“Make a hole!” 

Kara “Starbuck” Thrace, jammer for the Delphi Derby Dolls, thundered as she barrelled around the curve of the rink. The blockers at the back of the line, Margaret “Racetrack” Edmondson and Marcia “Showboat” Case, immediately parted ranks, their teammates following suit, and Kara sped through, gaining on the opposing team. In grey shorts and shirt and dark grey helmet with a red stripe, the girl was massive, at least six feet tall with arms so long she had a wingspan of nearly four feet. The Mangala Marauders were new to the league this season and Kara didn’t even know the woman’s name, just her nickname: Scar. Purportedly, she’d gotten it because of all the injuries she’d dealt out to opposing players back in the Caprican West league. 

Kara pushed harder to overtake the blocker. Two more points and the Interplanetary Flat Track Derby championship title would be theirs!  If she could pass her, she’d have no problem taking out Kendra “Razor” Shaw, the Marauders’ jammer. The girl was tiny, and worse, a thinker. Kara’s quicker reflexes and total lack of reluctance to use brute strength would be no match for the petite brunette. 

Her right knee twinged as she lengthened her strides and Kara grimaced. Her old pyramid injury had been flaring up more and more frequently lately. The Derby Dolls were the defending champions, and there was no way in hell, Kara was letting that title go. She lowered her head, star panty pointing toward the polished wooden rink and accelerated, deliberately ignoring the twinge that was threatening to turn into a flare. Maybe she was getting too old for this shit. 

“Hey, Cap’n,” she heard a second later and Kara looked up to find the distinctive blue-striped helmet of the Dolls’ pivot, Louanne “Kat” Katraine, gaining on her right side. The rookie was quick, her feline nickname bestowed for her ability to stealthily approach an opponent rather than her last name, as most assumed. 

“What the frak are you doing, Kat? Get back in the line!” Kara yelled. 

“Cap, put me in. I can totally take her,” she insisted! “That bitch won’t know what hit her!” 

Kara groaned and rolled her eyes. Kat was a hothead, always spoiling for a fight. Ambitious too. She’d been nipping at Kara’s heels for months now, even though she’d only started skating last year and spent more time shining the floorboards than she did on her skates until a few months ago. She was a quick learner and she had talent, which is why she’d moved up the ranks to Pivot, but her ego still outsized her skill. Of course, Kat, however, thought she was hot shit and she’d been gunning for the Jammer spot, clamoring for Kara to hand over her panty in nearly all of their recent games. Fat chance of that happening, Kara vowed, grimacing as she put more effort into her stride. 

The kid kept up though. “C’mon Starbuck, I can get her. Gimme a frakkin shot!” Kara didn’t answer, and Kat started up again, her eager tone replaced by a sneering one. “Hell, you know I can catch her and that’s why you won’t put me in! You’re just afraid I’ll show you up and everyone here’ll see that Starbuck ain’t the hottest brawler in the league anymore!”

Seething, Kara angled her body just enough to hipcheck Kat hard as she broke away and kicked in the burn. Scar was in her sights and a second later, she was within striking distance. Kara frowned, Kat’s words still echoing in her head. Frakking bullshit. So the kid had outscored her at drills last week, and now she thought she was a godsdamn superstar. Kat didn’t understand it took more than speed to be a star jammer. You needed timing and experience, she thought as she sidled up next to Scar. You needed to know exactly how and when to attack for maximum advantage. Scar shifted into Kara’s path to obstruct her, collision was imminent. And you needed...

A new frakking knee joint. Tendons groaned, as the massive blocker knocked her down, Kara falling too fast to prevent landing on her bad leg. She bit her tongue and swallowed the pain, tears smarting in her eyes as a whistle blew, signifying the end of the jam. Her team had raced on without her and were halfway round the track now. Kara just sat there, unsure if she’d be able to get up, afraid to try. Then a shadow fell over her. “Starbuck, are you okay?”

Kara swore mentally, swiping a hand over her face. “I’m fine. I’m fine!” But she let the ref hook a hand under her arm and haul her to her feet again. Reluctantly, she looked up and met the concerned and skeptical gaze of Lee Adama. A law student by day, her best friend’s hard-on for justice meant his calls were always fair and even-handed. Unsurprisingly, Lee was one of the most popular refs in the league. 

Kara was pretty sure the massive biceps and blue eyes didn’t hurt either. 

Their effect was lost on her at the moment though. She jerked her arm free. Lee’s concerned scrutiny was harder to escape though. “Did you hurt your knee again?” 

“It’s nothing. I’ll ice it during the half.” She turned, intending to glide off to the locker room, when he grabbed her arm. 

“Kara that’s what? The third time in as many months that knee gave out on you? You need to call Cottle and have him look at it,” he insisted, referencing the physical therapist who attended the league. 

“And you need to mind your own business. I can take care of myself, Lee, gods!” 

“Kara! I just want to help-”

She knew that but the pain and the frustration of their seemingly imminent loss made her snappish anyway. “You wanna help? Open your godsdamn eyes the next time that two-ton bitch throws me an elbow, okay?”

She jerked away, barrelling towards the bench and yanking off her helmet, hurling it away and narrowly missing her coach Laura Roslin.

"Starbuck! A word, please!" Roslin snapped off and Kara begrudgingly skated over to the coach, out of earshot of her teammates. Once upon a time, Roslin was a Derby Doll herself, though it’d been a while since “Big Red” was in action. She’d coached the team to three consecutive league championships though, and there were few people on the planet that Kara respected more. 

“Sorry, boss, I almost had her, she just got off a lucky shot, caught me right on the knee,” Kara admitted. Roslin made her sit, and crouched down, probing at the joint with her fingers. Kara sucked in a hard breath. The coach frowned, as she straightened. “Well it doesn’t feel like anything’s snapped, but this knee’s been giving you trouble all season, Kara,” she shook her head. “Maybe you should sit the rest of this one out. Kat can--”

“NO!” Kara cried. “I’m alright Boss, really. I’ll ice it and it’ll be as good as new. Keep me in,” she pleaded, adding after a second, “ please. ” 

Roslin surveyed her, eyes squinting slightly in scrutiny. “You know, Kara, I’ve been where you are. I understand how hard it is to accept that maybe you’re not at the peak--”

“I’m only 30! That’s hardly ready for a walker, Coach!” 

She smiled. “Yes, I know, but maybe it’s time for you to take it just a little easier.” 

Shocked and hurt by the implication, Kara’s voice twisted as she asked, “Are you pulling me, Coach?” 

“Of course not. You’re my best skater, Kara, and you’re the captain of this team. Those girls look up to you.” She spoke slowly, as if she was waiting for Kara to object, but Kara was numb. “I think, if we want this team to continue to be the best it can be, then we have to start thinking about the future.” Roslin looked over towards the water cooler where Kat, Dee, and Cally were laughing.

Kara’s face tightened, her arms crossing. 

“That’s all I’m saying. Just think about it,” she patted Kara’s shoulder and rose. 

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Kara leaned over and snagged an ice pack from the cooler under the bench and held it to her leg. Of course, she wanted what was best for the team, and it wasn’t like she thought she could do this forever but she wasn’t ready to be put out to pasture just yet. What the hell would she even do with herself if she couldn’t skate? Go full time slinging drinks to frat boys and bar bunnies at Jake’s? Hell no! 

Bright laughter snagged her attention and she looked over again to the rookies. Kat was telling some story, probably bragging, her hands gesturing a mile a minute, the other girls hanging on her every word.

Godsdammit.

***

Near the end of the fourth quarter, the Dolls were still a point behind, despite Kara’s valiant efforts. Worse, her knee was frakking killing her. The pain was distracting enough that she took a direct hit, Scar hip-checking her hard enough that Kara went down. She groaned, but launched back up, just in time to see Razor putting her hands on her hips, calling a time out. 

Kara sucked in a hard breath and glanced to the board. When Lee blew the whistle again, there’d still be three minutes left in the game. Three minutes wasn’t so long. She could hang in there... but she couldn’t win it. Kara swallowed hard, knowing she didn’t have the juice. Biting back a curse, she skated over to Kat.  The girl’s chin rose, mouth in a perpetual sneer. Her lips parted but before she could say anything Kara reached up and yanked the panty off her helmet. She held it out and watched as Kat’s eyes turned into saucers. “You wanted your shot, you got it, kid” Kara growled. “Try not to frak this up.” 

Kat blinked then whooped loudly as she grabbed the cover and tossed Starbuck her own. The whistle blew and Kara dropped back to lead the pack as Kat surged out front. 

It was both the slowest and the fastest three minutes of her life. She watched with a lump in her throat as Kat dashed and wove between the pack. She was quick and scrappy, but Scar’s defense was impenetrable. No one had been able to breach it, and it occured to Kara suddenly that maybe that was the problem. 

“Kat!” she shouted. “Fall back!” 

Eyebrows rising in surprise, Kat paused and Kara gestured for Racetrack to skate forward with her and flank the girl. Maggie nodded, already clueing in to the plan and they each grabbed an arm. “We’re gonna whip you out right in front of her, Kat. Do not frakking miss this, rookie!” Kat nodded anxiously, and Kara and Maggie started accelerating, pushing forward hard to make up the lost distance while they were plotting. Suddenly Kara nodded and they yanked Kat forward, propelling her out into the lead. The girl sailed past Scar, her momentum too quick for the massive blocker to catch her. Kat screamed in triumph as she then jetted past Razor, her arms raising in victory for a split second then crashing down onto her hips, as she called a stop to the final jam. A whistle blew and the Derby Dolls’ exultant cries filled the arena. They’d won a fourth championship!

Kara slowed to a stop several paces behind the pack, panting and shoulders sagging as she hunches over. She paused there for a minute, just watching her teammates, who’d hoisted Kat onto their shoulders, as they hooted and hollered on their victory lap. 

“So the Dolls triumph again,” said a familiar voice at her elbow. 

“Yup,” Kara replied tersely, eyes still fixed on the girls. 

“And yet, their fearless leader is over here, instead of celebrating,” his tone was deceptively even, but Kara thought she heard a hint of amusement behind the mild words. 

“Don’t start, Lee,” she warned, jaw clenching. 

“I’m not, I’m not!” He swore, hands rising defensively.  Then his tone changed, softer and more solicitous suddenly. “But I know how much you love Kat...  That must’ve been tough for you, pulling back like that. Kara, if you want--” 

“Lee! I don’t need your pity, okay?”

“Well, good, cause you don’t have it!” He insisted, but then he grinned, wide enough that his eyes crinkled a little. “But how about a beer?” 

She stared at him, like she wasn’t sure she could trust his offer, and Lee laughed a little. “On me. C’mon. Let’s go celebrate your victory with Caprica’s finest swill.” 

“It’s not  my  victory,” she said quietly, eyes glancing back to Kat and the girls. 

“Yeah, it is,” he said, so insistently that Kara turned and looked back at him. Earnest eyes locked on hers and Lee smiled, sliding closer and throwing an arm around her and squeezing her shoulder. “You did good,  Captain .”

Lee was just her friend. She didn’t need his approval and it shouldn’t have meant anything...except it did, and Kara couldn’t help smiling back finally, as she let him steer her off the rink and towards the locker room. The old, threadbare carpeting under their feet was heavily marked with lines, the indelible evidence of years of skate wheels passing over it, and Kara wondered briefly how many more times she’d trace this well-worn path. How many more games she had before her knee gave out altogether and she couldn’t skate anymore. A pang shot through her at the thought. Skating’d been her life for so long. She was gonna miss her girls, Coach, even Delphi Arena’s perpetually stinky locker rooms.

Wheels already turning, an idea started to take shape and Kara's heart lifted. Maybe she wouldn't have to. 

“Hey Lee,” she piped up, a slow grin spreading on her face, “how much do they pay you for this refereeing gig?” 

\--fin--

 

** Glossary **

** Jammer--lead point scorer for a team **

** Blockers -- block the other team’s jammer from passing them/scoring points **

** Pivot -- the lead blocker **

** Star Panty -- the helmet cover that the Jammer wears with two stars on it **

** Stripe Panty -- the helmet cover the Pivot wears with a stripe down the middle (other helmet covers are blank) **

** Star Pass -- the Jammer and Pivot can switch positions if they swap panties (hee!) **

** Stopping the Jam -- the Jammer can signal an end to a round before the designated two minutes are up by putting her hands on her hips **


End file.
